Stan told me that he is going to sell Manila Bay, and moving back to West Africa. The idea is not going down well with his is Filipina wife. I must say, I was also a little saddened by the thought of losing my ka-local. I have so many fond memories from my teens resting within those walls. This is one of them.
Manila Bay was the first bar I ever saw my mother walk into. No, she had not come to quench her Thirsty Thursday. She was on a war path. Earlier that day, mom was playing host to a lady and her son, Paul, who were new to Canada. They were looking to network with other Kenyans in Toronto. I was asked to show the lady’s son around while they caught up on storoz. My pals and I decided to take him to Manila Bay, and shoot a few pool games. Naturally, we had to gather a few pitchers of beer.
I don’t know how she found us; all I remember was the door opening, and a figure walking in (in slow motion). She took a few steps in, paused (for her eyes to adjust to the darkness), and proceeded to surveil the room. I had just come from the bar and was holding two jugs of booze, when her gaze caught mine. Mom had this look I can’t explain. I knew I was wan-ted. A few of my boys had already ducked behind the pool table and were signaling saying, “Weh! Aki-ask, mazee mi siko!” Honor amongst thieves, eh?
Turns out, Paul’s mom was of the mind that alcohol is devil’s juice. What happened next can only be described in one word: Melee! I just couldn’t understand … if the boys are thirsty, si then wananchi wapewe?
Speaking of thirsty Kenyans, the following people need to be reminded about our thirst:
Daniel Moi, Gideon Moi, Joshua Kulei, Sammy Komen, Musa Sirma, and Samson K. Biir.
I know the list is longer, but these folks above allegedly own about 550 acres of Mau Forest collectively. Tafadhali, don’t hold our water hostage.